Little stieains have flowers a many. Beautiful and fair as any; Tvoha strong, and green bur-seed; w-herb with cotton-seed;
(head with eye of jet, he water violet the flowering-bush you meet, the plumy meadow sweet, in places deep and stilly, le-likc, the water lily.
S0 long as our friends profit by our mistakes, and gain the re-suit of our experience, we have a compensation for our failures; but let me give this bit of advice to the would-be gardener: if one is unable to secure ample assistance, and is obliged to develop a place slowly, the order of planting should be trees first, shrubs second, flowers last of all.
Trees may be considered as the skeleton, the framework upon which the whole scheme is constructed, giving it strong substantial outlines and decisive meaning. Shrubbery plays the part of muscles and flesh, covering the unsightly bare places, rounding out the form, supplying the essential, and giving grace and symmetry to the inclosure; while flowers may be regarded as the clothing with which the completed body is finally adorned. Naturally, one cannot resist sticking in a few flowers as he goes along, but their disposition is not final, and they take up a deal of time, and are, consequently, to be relegated to a subordinate place at first, and looked forward to as the occupation reserved for those future unemployed hours when the woody plants can be left to grow, and fulfill their mission.
Here, where the watering during summer, and frequent digging about and top-dressing, to retain moisture, are absolutely essential to trees and shrubs, flowers that have to be weeded and tended are much neglected, and only those hardy perennials that will take care of themselves and defy weeds, have as yet any kind of a show. But we are always dreaming of a period when the ligneous plants can be let alone, and we can turn our attention seriously to the purely ornamental.
In the mean time, such wild things as come up of their own accord, on the hill and in the meadow, are full of interest, particularly in early spring and in late August, when the stock of hardy garden-flowers runs comparatively low.
At the latter period the little spot that I call my water garden is really quite a sight for such a humble affair, a mere mud-hole as it were, formed by a spring at the foot of the hill, which makes a tiny frog-pond, about ten feet or less in diameter. The frogs themselves are quite ornamental, wearing, as they do, the most gorgeous yellow and green coats, and being quite sociable and friendly, ready to sit on a chip and croak when we pay them a visit, and making music for us in the spring before the birds are fairly abroad. The old bull-frog, with a hoarse cold, is not always a comfort, for he has a way of coughing at night, like an asthmatic old gentleman, that is sometimes distressing, if you lie awake to listen, for it makes you sure his family must be anxious about him; but the piping little ones have quite a cheerful note, which blends agreeably with the chirpings of the grasshoppers.
On the marshy banks of the little pool, which cannot comfortably be reached without overshoes, some slim Willows are bravely growing, which I fear will some day make it too shady for the flowers, but at present they serve to give the spot a cosy and protected air, and the sunlight shifts through the light foliage, and falls kindly on the bright group of blossoms that make it so gay at the end of summer.